The End Is Just a Little Harder
by Miss Comatose
Summary: It's 2014 and everything is going right. For the angels. Dean says yes.


**Chapter 1**  
**Dean: 2009**

* * *

"Say yes to Michael and we can strike," Zachariah urged, hands raised in eager efforts at persuasion. I opened the cabinet above the sink, trying to block out the words of the angel. It was just too much, too much after watching Sam and Cas and Chuck and everyone like that. Bobby hadn't even made it to 2014. He was dead.

And now Cas and Future Me were dead. And Sam might as well have been.

And everyone was dead.

That's all the future held, nothing but death for all of us. And it was only five years away. Less than five years and we'd all be dead, no gravestones or burials because there'd be no one left alive to bury us. All fucking killed because I had said no and Sam had said yes.

I poured myself a glass of whiskey, glad to find the bottle tucked away in the run down cabinet. Perhaps Zachariah had put it there or perhaps someone else had, but I didn't really care who'd left it. It was there and I needed it. I downed it quickly, pouring myself another. I found myself needing to take away the sharp ache of Cas's death and Sam's betrayal and how could the future be so screwed up like that? How had everything become so fucked and messed?

"We can strike before Lucifer gets to Sam. Before billions die," Zachariah pressed, moving forward insistently. He was trying to sell his point and I knew I should just stop listening, block out the businessman of Heaven because all he was selling had to be fake. It had to be. That couldn't be the truth.

That couldn't really have been the future that waited for us. It couldn't have been. It just couldn't.

I paused, white knuckles clenching against the edge of the white counter. But there was always the grain of truth to what the angels said. No matter how much Zachariah made up, there was always the small bit of truth within it. Some part of it had to be true. But I couldn't let the future end up like that. I couldn't let Sam end up like that. I couldn't let it happen, but hell if I was siding with the angels.

"You'll be saving people, Dean Winchester. You'll be saving countless lives. You'll be saving your brother." Zachariah paused, letting me think for a second. Leaving me alone with my thoughts that were too bold and too mismatched and screaming too loudly.

And that was where I fell.

The world froze as I heard Zachariah's words echoing through my head. _You'll be saving your brother. You'll be saving your brother. You'll be saving your brother._ Saving Sam.

Saving Sam.

I would be saving Sam from Lucifer and the apocalypse and the demons and Sam would never have to return to hunting. He could get out. He could get out. And he would die a normal death, not because of a ghost or a vampire or because I had fucked up again. If I said yes, it would be saving Sam.

Saving. Sam.

"Yes."

"You'll be…what?" Zachariah stopped dead as registered what I had said. He blinked owlishly, watching me with slight confusion, as if he hadn't realized Sam was the breaking point, Sam was my weakness. Sam always had been.

"I said yes, you son of a bitch!" I whispered out, bite gone out of the tone. I was leaning against the counter, feeling it bite into my hipbones painfully. But it was grounding me, keeping me aware and alive as I heard Zachariah inhale. I tossed back my drink, staring at the ceiling. Damn it. Damn everything. Putting the glass down, I swallowed the liquid fire. "I said yes."

"I'll alert him." I didn't turn around, couldn't stand to see the smirk on Zachariah's face, that victory. I could practically feel it, the smugness radiating off the angel. The bastard.

"Let me just call some people first, say my goodbyes." There was defeat in the tone, but I didn't care anymore, didn't want to care anymore. I was just so tired. Tired of fighting and struggling and caring and watching the people I loved die. I just wanted to do the mental check out and wake up to the big black expanse of nothing.

I just wanted it to be over.

"Take however long you need. We'll be waiting." I could hear the smile in that phrase and I couldn't help but feel the recoil in my stomach. I was really doing it, really saying yes to Michael. This was it. This was going to start the Apocalyse, the four horsemen, pestilence, five dollar-a-gallon gas Apocalypse. But I guessed it was too late to really back out.

I pulled out my phone slowly, really didn't want to call anyone, but I had to. I just had to say goodbye, couldn't leave it like that.

The first call went through immediately.

"Hello?" Bobby's gruff voice came across loud and clear and I couldn't help but smile at how normal he sounded. Things were going to hell and Bobby was still the same old Bobby and God, I hadn't realized how much I'd needed to hear his voice.

"Bobby, it's Dean," I started, throwing back another glass of whiskey. God, I hadn't tried to get this drunk in ages, hadn't wanted to get this drunk since ever. Yeah, I'd had days where I'd wanted to crawl into a bottle and never come back out, particularly, early on after Sam left for Stanford when Dad was unbearable and angry and pissed as fuck at everything and me for hiding the application. But never like this. Never like this.

"What's the matter, boy? Sounds like somethin's wrong," Bobby guessed and I could hear him put his book down definitively.

"Nah. I guess I just needed to hear your voice," I laughed darkly, setting the glass down. I leaned over the counter a little more, inhaling the musty scent of the cabin.

"You're about to do something stupid, aren't ya?" Bobby's voice came across sharp and tense. But Bobby always knew when something was wrong. He'd been listening to me over the phone for years, knew every sign of a problem. He knew when I was in trouble and when I was the cause of it.

"Yeah," I admitted, lowering my eyes as if Bobby was actually giving me that death glare he did so well.

"How bad are we talking?" the older man asked, and I could practically see the worry lines breaking out along his forehead, could see his hand moving for a book or the half-filled bottle of whiskey he always had on his desk.

"Apocalyptic."

"Don't you dare say yes!" Bobby roared and I winced. I closed my eyes, sighing through the phone. It sounded so defeated and I knew it. But half of me didn't care anymore. I just couldn't bring myself to at the end of everything. I was so close to the finish and I just wanted it to be done. Screw everything else.

"Sorry, Bobby. The angels showed me something and I can't say no." I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying not to see Cas's hopeless eyes and Sam's empty smile and those words. "I just…can't say no again."

"Damn it, ya idjit! What the hell did you see?!" Bobby shouted. "You can't say yes!" he added after a few seconds, followed by muffled curses. I just stood there for a minute, listening to Bobby breathe on the other end of the line, just savoring the sound. This would be my last conversation with the man after all.

"They showed me the end of the world," I finally said quietly, barely able to speak. I could hear Bobby inhale deeply, trying to choose the right words to get me out of my tail spin. But couldn't he see it was already too late? That there was nothing he could do? I had fucked up again and there was no fixing it. "They showed me what would happen if I didn't say yes…You were dead Bobby. You weren't even there."

"That doesn't matter! So what if I was dead?!" It cut me deep to hear Bobby like that, to hear him talk like it didn't matter if he died, like I shouldn't care. "I'm gonna kick the bucket some time anyways! You can't-"

"He said yes." And that stopped Bobby cold. "Sam said yes and Lucifer won." I cleared his throat as my voice cracked slightly. I rushed through the next words, trying to keep my voice calm and stable. "The entire world was destroyed. The Croatoan virus that Sam and I dealt with two years ago? It swept the world and destroyed everything."

"That hasn't happened, Dean! Damn it! The angels are lying to you!" Bobby was shouting and cursing in the same breath. "Cas!" he shouted and I couldn't bring himself to care.

"You shoulda seen me, Bobby. You shoulda seen me in the future." I let out a shaky breath, looking back up at the ceiling. I could still see myself in the future; the cold, merciless eyes, the beer in hand as I shot down some random guy. "I killed innocent people, Bobby. I killed Cas," I finished with a whisper, biting my lip. I wiped at his eyes hastily, sniffing. _Damn it. Way to sound so mentally stable, Dean._

"That wasn't you, Dean. That was some half-rate angel acid trip!" Bobby shouted, but I couldn't help it. I knew I'd slip into being that. I knew if Sam turned into Lucifer I'd be so driven by it, nothing else would matter. That's how it had always been. I would do anything for Sam.

"I gotta stop it. I can't let it happen," I breathed out, hands shaking. "I can't watch it happen all over again." I picked up the bottle of whiskey again, pouring myself another glass.

"What's the matter? I sensed your anxiety." I could hear Cas on the other end, just arriving. Cas. The sound of his voice conjured up so many screwed up, fucked up memories that I shouldn't have even known.

"He's gonna say yes," Bobby explained over the other end and I just couldn't speak, still reeling from the sound of Cas's voice.

* * *

_"Dean, I'm not an angel anymore."_

* * *

Not the stoned Cas. Not the human Cas. The actual angel Cas. He wasn't dead yet. He wasn't dead. He was still alive. I hadn't killed him yet. "I can't find him! The angels are blocking his location from me!" Cas shouted across the line and I let out a small sigh of relief. Cas wouldn't suffer for my choices. Cas would never suffer because of me again.

Cas's death had hurt more than I would ever be willing to ever admit, left me shaken in a way that I didn't truly understand. I just couldn't let it happen. Ever. It was times like this that made me remember why I'd been so glad to have Cas on my side, fighting by me, watching my back.

* * *

_"I think it had something to do with the other angels leaving. But when they bailed, my mojo just kind of –psshew!– drained away. And now, you know, I'm practically human. I mean, Dean, I'm all but useless."_

* * *

"You cannot let him say yes! Dean, you can't say yes!" Cas's voice grew increasingly loud as he started yelling through the phone, all but pleading for me to reconsider, to stop what I was doing because that was what they had been fighting to avoid. "What did they show you?!" Cas shouted. "Where did they take you?! Where are you?!" I stopped for a second, just listening to Cas because this was the last time I'd ever hear that voice. And it had taken forever, but I knew this was for the best, knew that I could never have this little angel. He was never mine to have.

I could vaguely hear Bobby explaining across the line what had happened. Telling him his future. That I would kill him. I would murderer him. And he would go to it willingly because Cas trusted me and why did he when I was so fucked up?

"Dean..." Cas's voice came across, just a little more hesitant. "It wasn't real. I'm not dead. You can't buy into Zachariah's tricks!" And with that he was shouting again, begging begging begging for me to stop. "Dean you can't do this! I've given up everything for you! Dean! Please!"

* * *

_"And now I'm powerless. I'm hapless, I'm hopeless. I mean, why the hell not bury myself in women and decadence, right? It's the end, baby."_

* * *

"I gotta go, Cas. It's been nice knowing ya. You stay safe, you here?" I raised the glass to my lips, sitting there for a second. I stared at the ceiling, closing my eyes, trying not to feel the way those words hit me. Trying not to break down and just tell him where I was and have come rescue me. This was for the best.

"Dean, y-" Hanging up the phone, I downed the glass in one go. I exhaled, blinking against the bite of the drink. I supposed I needed it, the bite. Something to prove that I was still alive and breathing. It was another second before I could work up the courage to ring the second number.

I wasn't surprised when I found Sam's voicemail.

"Sam, it's me," I started, pouring yet another shot of whiskey. God, what did that make? Six? It had barely been fifteen, twenty minutes since I'd gotten back. I swallowed nervously, trying not to let the sound go through the phone.

"I know you don't want to hear from me. That's okay, but I just wanted to let you know that I'm sorry. And this shit that I'm about to drop on the world, I'm sorry for that too." I had to stop, sighing and cursing at myself. "I'm sorry for not being a better big brother and for letting you down. I'm sorry for everything…" I paused for a second, laughing to myself in that way dead men do. I was dark and humorless and knew too much for my limited years and I was just so relieved that it wouldn't be my problem anymore. No more worries about Hell or the demons or the angels or any other shit. I was done. I was checking out.

"I fucked up, Sam," I admitted, feeling the words catch in my throat. I really had. I'd fucked up in so many ways and there was just no way to really forgive those kinds of things. "I fucked up big time, but I'm gonna fix it. I promise I'm gonna fix it.

"Go have a nice apple pie life or something. Meet a girl, settle down. Forget about me." I winced as my voice cracked on the last word. Damn chick flick moments. "Bye, Sam." I had barely hung up the phone, wiping at my eyes, when I saw it.

Not it.

Him.

Michael.

The beauty that was the archangel Michael.

It sorta made sense now, why I could see Michael, but could never see Cas. I had always been doomed to be Michael's vessel, always destined for Michael. I was never meant to be Cas's, so I could see Michael, but I could never see Cas. Cas was never supposed to be mine.

But Michael…Michael was beautiful. I supposed every angel was in their own way, but this was my first time seeing Grace, so it seemed breathtaking. It was almost translucent, but it had the faintest sheen of starlight to it, bright blue and electric and beautiful.

"Dean Winchester, I've heard many stories about you." I blinked as I heard Michael's voice echoing, echoing everywhere it seemed. The glass in my hand burst, cut into my skin painfully, but I hardly noticed. I was paying rapt attention to the angel in front of me, the Grace swirling in front of me. I could tell Michael's voice was rather low somehow. I didn't know how I could tell. I just knew. It was a nice voice too; would have been easy on the ears if not for the whole glass and eardrum explosion problem.

But I couldn't really focus on that anymore as the Grace moved towards me, winding up around my arms and around my neck in some metaphorical noose that I was hanging myself with. Sam would have known it, the term exactly. He would have known, would have geeked out about the syntax of it for hours.

Saving Sam.

"Let's just get this over with," I muttered, closing my eyes, turning away. Was that what Cas looked like? Had looked like before he turned human? Had he been bright electric blue like Michael before everything was ripped away from him? Before he was human.

No. That wouldn't happen. I was saying yes. Cas wouldn't turn human. Cas wouldn't suffer and be trapped in human skin any longer. He wouldn't have to dose himself with absinthe and amphetamines and who knew what else just to get through the day. He wouldn't have to watch everyone leave and die. He wouldn't have to keep struggling. We wouldn't have to be in anymore pain. I wouldn't have to carry everyone's burdens and watch everything fall apart around him. I wouldn't have to protect Sam anymore. I wouldn't have to do that ever again. I would be okay. Everything was going to be different. That wouldn't happen. I wouldn't turn into that. I wouldn't turn into a Dean that would kill Cas.

That wouldn't be me.

"Will you accept me?" Michael's voice was low in my ears, sensual, all too inviting and coy, all too angelic and innocent and fake. But I couldn't care about that anymore. I couldn't care lest I stop myself. And I couldn't do that.

"Yes."

* * *

_"What happened to you?"_

_"Life."_


End file.
